


Doctor's Orders

by MademoiselleAbaisse



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: A little bit dubcon at first- But it turns out that Jehan likes it, Belly Kink, Courf Being Worried, Feedism, Jehan Getting Chubby, Joly Being Joly, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MademoiselleAbaisse/pseuds/MademoiselleAbaisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill of this prompt on the Kink Meme:</p><p>"Jehan is always portrayed as being very thin and waif-like. I'd like to see an established relationship between him and Courfeyrac, wherein Courfeyrac becomes very concerned about Jehan's tiny frame when Joly makes a comment that the poet looks as though he's "wasting away". Courf decides to take matters into his own hands and fatten Jehan up.</p><p>It starts out as dubcon nightly stuffings, but once Jehan starts to pack on the weight, he finds that he likes the curviness of his new body. Courfeyrac is very supportive, and rewards Jehan for being good by giving him belly-rubs.</p><p>Basically I just want some chubby!Jehan with a nice, round tummy for Courf to rub. That's it!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my second fic, sort of. Second fic for this kink, but with Courf/Jehan instead of E/R!
> 
> The E/R one I'm writing is a bit more consensual, whereas this one's got a little more dubcon. Like the other one, it's going to be a slow-build. I promise chubbiness and sexytimes in later chapters! <3

It was a breezy April afternoon when Jehan strode into the Café Musain to meet his friends. He greeted Courfeyrac with a tender embrace before shrugging his coat off and beginning to sit down. Courf looked him up and down. He never tired of the sight of Jehan- all angles, and freckles, and gangly limbs, and flowing auburn hair, pulled into a braid which he wore over his shoulder. His tight floral jeans sat low on his slender hips- dangerously low. He was wearing a lacy tank-top borrowed from Cosette, the knobs of his spine poking through the back. Joly cleared his throat. “Jehan…you know I mean no disrespect, but have you lost weight recently?” Jehan frowned for a moment, looking down at himself. “Perhaps a little. But I’ve always been thin. You know that.”

Joly shook his head, biting his lip. “Not quite like this, my friend. Are you feeling alright? You look as if you could be anemic.”

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, wrapping a protective arm around Jehan. “I wasn’t aware your hypochondria extended to include my boyfriend, Joly.”

The latter man blushed, sipping at his coffee. “As a student of medicine, I am merely expressing my concern. Being so underweight is a serious health risk.”

At this, Courfeyrac felt a sinking feeling in his chest. It WAS? He had always assumed that since Jehan was so naturally thin, it wouldn’t cause any complications. Grantaire, noticing the couple’s discomfort, swooped in to change the subject. But Courfeyrac couldn’t stop worrying about it for the rest of the afternoon. 

 

\--

 

When they got home that evening, Courf held the door open for Jehan, as he often did, stepping after him into the apartment they shared. Hanging his coat up, the weight of Joly’s words nagged at him. “Babe?” he asked, tentatively. “Hmm?” came Jehan’s response as his nimble fingers worked the braid out of his hair.

“…How tall are you?”

“Erm. 5 feet 6 inches, give or take.”

“And how much do you weigh?”

Jehan peered at him, unsure whether to be bemused or offended. “Courf?”

“Just answer the question. Please.” 

Jehan shrugged, a pink blush rising on his cheeks. “115, 120 pounds? Somewhere in there?”

The sinking feeling tugged insistently inside Courfeyrac’s chest. “And has that always been what you weighed?”

“I don’t have an eating disorder, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Jehan replied, his tone edging on indignant. 

“That’s not what I mean. I know you don’t. I know you eat. I just…I don’t think you eat enough.”

Jehan raised an eyebrow. “If this is about what Joly said at the café…”

“Yes, Jean. This is about what Joly said at the café.”

Jehan froze. His boyfriend only ever called him by his real first name when he was in trouble. “Courf, I’m FINE,” he insisted. 

Courfeyrac bit his lip and shook his head. “This isn’t fine, Jean…” he ghosted his fingers over the protruding ribs. “This doesn’t feel fine to me,” he repeated, demonstratively looping his fingers around Jehan’s wrist, with plenty of overlap. 

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Courf. I can’t make myself eat any more than I already do.”

An unintelligible emotion flickered across the brunette man’s face. “No. You can’t. But I can.”

“Wh-what?” Jehan stuttered, bewildered.

Courfeyrac took his arm and pulled him to the kitchen. “Come on. I’m making you dinner. And you’re going to eat it. Every. Last. Bite.”

Jehan bit his lip. In the bedroom, he liked when Courfeyrac took control. But he wasn’t sure if he liked this or not.

 

\--

 

“I can’t anymore, Courf…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, babe. There’s almost an entire plate left.”

“No…I…I can’t. I’m a tiny person, and so is the capacity of my stomach.”

Courfeyrac sighed. “You’re going to eat it all, one way or another. Now, if you refuse to feed yourself the rest of it, I’m going to have to feed it to you.”

“But…but…it’s so much food!”

“Jean, I normally eat more than this. Are you calling me fat?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“N-no! Not at all, you’re perfect, I just-“

“Shhh. Just open up.”

Courfeyrac speared a forkful of pasta, holding it up to Jehan’s lips. With a small, resigned whimper, the little poet gave in, closing his mouth around the utensil. Courfeyrac looked down, noticing the small swell that was collecting at Jehan’s midsection, and he felt his cock stirring against his leg. OH. Well. That was…new. And unexpected.  
He fed Jehan bite after bite, until the pasta was gone. He held up the glass of wine to the poet’s dainty lips. “Drink,” he commanded, but it came out as a coo. Jehan drank a small amount, but Courfeyrac kept tipping the glass, making it impossible for him not to swallow it all. He gasped a little, trying to regain his breath, and Courfeyrac reached for the loaf of French bread. “Sweetheart…I can’t…” Jehan groaned, his breathing shallow. “I’m so full…”

Courf looked down, and sure enough, the round protrusion of Jehan’s belly was pushing uncomfortably against the waistband of his jeans. He put the bread loaf down, instead reaching down to Jehan’s lap, fingertips ghosting over his belly, and popping open the button of his jeans, watching as his swollen stomach poked out, forcing down the zipper. Perhaps it was the sight of it, or the stifled moan that Jehan made, but Courfeyrac found himself getting very hard as he reached out to rub his boyfriend’s belly. “How does that feel?” he purred, rubbing his palm in gentle circles.

“Oh…that feels good…” Jehan moaned in reply, arching his back so that his distended tummy pushed up against Courfeyrac’s hand. The brunette rubbed gently for a good while, before pulling his hand away, and picking up the bread again. 

“You’re going to eat this entire thing,” he murmured softly, his own cock throbbing at the suggestion. 

Jehan gasped a little. “But it’s so much…”

Courfeyrac leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. “You want it, don’t you?” he whispered. “If you’re good, and you eat this whole thing, I’ll take you to bed and rub the discomfort away until you fall asleep.”

Jehan sighed. That did sound nice... “Alright,” he acquiesced, nodding.

“Let me hear you say you want it.”

“I want it, Courf…please. Just feed it to me.”

That was all Courfeyrac needed, and he was straddling Jehan’s lap, pulling off a chunk of bread, and pushing it into the poet’s mouth, careful not to cut off his flow of air. The loaf went slowly, but eventually it had disappeared, and Jehan lay back in the chair, his belly looking as if it were about to burst. “Oh….” He moaned, clutching at Courfeyrac’s hands as they rubbed in their gentle circles. Courf stole another look downward, and was not prepared for what he saw. His heart jumped into his throat. Jehan, sweet little Jehan, was sporting an erection to rival his own. “Jehan,” he breathed, his eyes wide, and his voice wrecked.

The little poet followed his gaze and blushed. “Sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“You..you LIKE this, don’t you?” Courfeyrac asked in awe, letting his fingers dip down to brush over Jehan’s firm cock. The wordsmith nodded, his face turning a deep shade of crimson.

“I…I don’t know why. I just…do.”

“Do you want me to feed you again? Not tonight, but…again?”

Jehan nodded once more. “Yes,” he whimpered.

“And…would you want me to feed you often enough that you might gain a little weight?”

Jehan bit back a moan, feeling a rush of blood bury itself in his cock. “Yes…please…”

It was as if a floodgate had burst inside of Courfeyrac. “Do you want me to feed you until you can’t take anymore? Until you’re so full, you can hardly get out of your chair? Do you want me to stuff you until your cock gets so hard, you have to beg me to stop feeding you to suck you off? Until one day, you wake up in the morning, and your belly is STILL sticking out? Until you can hardly button those floral jeans of yours, and I have to help you every morning?” by the end of his speech, he realized he was rubbing his own arousal against Prouvaire’s firm belly.

“Oh…yes,” Jehan moaned in a whisper, his hips involuntarily pressing upward.

“Good. Because I’m going to feed you until you can’t even fit into MY clothes anymore. Until the only comment Joly is going to make about your weight, is that maybe you should lose some.” 

Jehan nodded breathlessly in response. “Yes…oh, please. I’m so little…I need- I need SOME meat on my bones…You were right. Joly was right. I’m too thin. Too thin…” at this point, his hips were rutting helplessly upwards. Courfeyrac nodded and took pity on him, swiftly tugging off those awful florid jeans, and wrapping a shaking hand around the only part of Jehan that was anything BUT little.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set quite awhile after the first chapter. Jehan has gained some weight (roughly 10-15 pounds, for those of you who want the numbers), and Courfeyrac is more than pleased.

Courfeyrac looked up from his laptop when Jehan breezed in through the door, a shopping bag slung over his arm. “Hey! I was wondering where you went,” Courf called over his shoulder as Jehan made his way to the refrigerator, pulling out a 2-Liter bottle of soda, and taking a gulp. “I was just at the mall,” the auburn-haired man explained with a smile, replacing the bottle in the refrigerator.

Courfeyrac smirked down at his screen. “Oh? Are you a secret shopaholic or something? Because if you are, you might as well tell me now so that I can pick up an extra shift at the Café to keep you happy.”

Jehan laughed, setting the bags on the kitchen table and standing behind Courf, rubbing his shoulders gently. “Nah. This trip was out of necessity, I assure you.

“Necessity?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Surely you’ve noticed?” Jehan asked coyly, stepping around to stand beside Courfeyrac. When he had captured the other man’s gaze, he lifted the hem of his floaty blouse to reveal the waistband of his jeans pitifully struggling against the soft new roundness of his stomach. The button was barely visible at this point, and the jeans looked as though they felt like a prison. Courfeyrac felt his mouth go dry, and all instincts told him to look up at Jehan’s face, but he could not, and he remained transfixed by the freckled expanse of skin before him. If he had been able to tear his eyes away, he would have noticed the crimson blush creeping across the little poet’s cheeks. “I couldn’t get them buttoned this morning. Eventually I figured out that I had to button them BELOW my belly, or it wasn’t going to work…”

Courfeyrac wordlessly reached out to poke at the little paunch, a shudder traveling through him at the way it molded to his touch. He curled his fingers underneath the little roll, gently lifting and squeezing, as he heard a gasp fall from Jehan’s lips. Courfeyrac was mesmerized at the way it jiggled in his hand, the way it bounced when he let it drop. Suddenly his laptop was forgotten, and he was turning in his chair, slipping fingertips under the impossibly tight waistband of Jehan’s jeans, and with a ‘pop’, the button fell open, the softness of his stomach pushing its way out. Courf sighed, half in contentment and half in awe, as he felt the familiar tension begin to stir between his legs. He reached out so that both hands were framing the soft beginnings of Jehan’s belly, and he leaned in, pressing a reverent kiss to the swell of skin just below his navel. “Oh,” came the poet’s response, his voice suddenly sounding very small, and he struggled to take a deep breath. 

Courf hummed against his belly, kneading gently, kissing across the expanse of skin, nuzzling the underside of it with his nose, licking across the crease where his stomach met his hips. He felt Jehan’s arousal pulsing against the underside of his jaw, tilting his head to press against it. The tiny poet shuddered, his toes curling in his sneakers. Courfeyrac kissed his way back up over the soft mound of flesh, first pressing a kiss into the navel, and then his tongue. Jehan’s navel had grown surprisingly deep in such a short time, and these tantalizing ministrations were making the younger man shiver. “Courfeyrac, please…” he whimpered, though he wasn’t sure what he was pleading for.

“Yes?” Courf asked, smiling against the swell of his stomach. “Please what? Please get you off? Please feed you? Please worship you?” he grinned. “I think I’m doing the latter fairly well,” he stated, with a gentle squeeze, running his hands up and over Jehan’s tummy, resulting in yet another shudder. “You’re doing so well, my little flower,” he purred, pinching the small love handles Jehan was developing. “Look at you. Look at how you’ve grown for me. Because of me,” he leaned in, mouthing a circle around the little poet’s deliciously deep belly-button, eliciting a tiny moan. “Can’t even button your favorite jeans, can you? Your belly is growing so fast…you should be proud, mon amour. I am,” he sighed, caressing the pouf of newly acquired padding. “Yet when you go out in public, you hide it. You hide it under loose blouses, like this,” he stated, tugging at the shirt Jehan wore. “If I had seen you before you left, I would have made you change. Would have made you go out in one of those tight tank tops you love so much, because _Christ_ , they would ride up over your belly so nicely. Let everyone see our accomplishment. Let everyone see this fat little tummy of yours sticking out over your jeans, begging to be set loose, begging to be fed.” Jehan actually WHINED at that, inadvertently bucking his hips, hoping it might cause the tip of his erection to find purchase against the underside of his stomach. No such luck. He moaned in frustration, in want, pushing forward into Courfeyrac’s hands. “You have no idea just how _insane_ that would make me,” Courf breathed, his own arousal screaming at him from beneath his zipper. “Seeing you out in public, with your fat little belly poking out of your clothes, and no matter what you do, you can’t hide it. Seeing the looks people give you and I, especially when I take you out to eat, and I stuff you right there, in public. Would that turn you on, my little flower?”

“Yes…oh, yes…” Jehan breathed, and it was absolutely true. He’d always had a hint of exhibitionism in him, but combined with this, it was almost too much to bear.

“Good,” Courfeyrac murmured. “Because I’m going to feed you until you outgrow those new pants you just bought. And then I’m taking you out for dinner. And I’m going to stuff you until you look ready to burst out of them.” Jehan was nodding feverishly, his mouth completely dry. “And then,” Courfeyrac whispered, looking up to meet his eyes, “I’m going to take you home. And I’m going to rub your belly until it doesn’t hurt anymore. And then I’m going to fuck you so hard, you see stars. What do you think of that, mon amour?”

“Oh, god, please…” Jehan whimpered, pressing a hand against his growing erection to keep himself from coming right then and there from the very suggestion. 

“It’s alright,” Courfeyrac smiled, tugging down on the waistband of his jeans, exposing the very top of his underwear. “Go ahead. Take care of yourself. I’ll be right here. Doing this.” He rolled Jehan’s belly in his hands, looking up at him with absolute lust.

Jehan swallowed thickly. That was all the invitation he needed, and he thrust a hand down into his boxer-briefs, pulling himself out, and rubbing up and down his length while Courfeyrac rubbed his growing belly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months have passed, and Jehan has gained a LOT of weight.
> 
> (For reference, this is how I picture him in this chapter: http://youtu.be/d_dIphDofXA?t=3m51s)  
> [Video is slightly NSFW. But then again, so is much of this story.]
> 
> Sort of just Jehan appreciating his new body, etc. Joly chastising him because he's "getting too big". And Courf getting turned on by the way Joly is manhandling Jehan.

“Hey, I’m home!” Courfeyrac called out, dropping his bag at the door.

“In the bedroom!” Jehan replied in a singsong, and Courf grinned on his way there. He pushed the door open. “And how was your day?”

Jehan was standing in the mirror shirtless, his impressive belly sagging down well over the button of his jeans, stretch marks becoming increasingly visible at his sides as he grew wider. Courfeyrac licked his lips at the sight of Jehan’s substantial overhang, as the little poet poked at his chest, suppressing a giggle. “Courf, I’ve got _boobs_!” he said in delight, hefting the small mounds of flesh in his hands. “In high school, I slept with girls with smaller boobs than this!” he grinned, pinching a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, letting out a small huff of air. “D’you reckon I’d be able to wear a bra?” he turned to ask Courfeyrac excitedly. “I mean. I’ve always wanted to try, yknow? But I never really had anything to fill it.”

Courfeyrac laughed, stepping over to his boyfriend and rolling the protrusions on his chest in his palms. “If that’s what you want, I could totally get into that,” he replied with a nod, as Jehan reached down to heft his belly while Courf played with his chest.

Jehan nodded. “It’s something to try!” he agreed, picking up his belly and letting it fall, enjoying the quivering sensation as he dropped it. 

Courfeyrac looked down in amusement. “God, look at you! You’ve gotten so big,” he hummed contentedly, letting one hand ghost down Jehan’s torso to squeeze at his belly. “Look how it jiggles,” he said in awe, poking at it. “Do you like that? Do you like how it feels?” Jehan nodded eagerly, a flush rising to his cheeks. “Do you like how you look, Jehan?” he breathed, and the poet nodded again. Courf grinned and stepped back to sit on their bed, looking Jehan up and down. “Show me,” he said simply.

“Wh-what?” Jehan asked, confused.

“Show me. Show me how much you love your new body. Show me how good it feels to touch yourself all over.” He leaned back on his elbows, cocking his head. “Tell me what you like about it. Tell me how it turns you on.”

Jehan whimpered, his fingers tracing up to his chest, squeezing at his swollen breasts. “I like these,” he said softly, pinching at his nipples. “They make me feel pretty. They make me feel androgynous. Sometimes I imagine you sucking at them, like you would a woman’s breasts,” his breath caught in his throat as he continued to speak. “And…my belly. It’s so fun to play with, I can’t stop myself…even when I’m in public.” Courf hummed in approval, nodding. “Look at the overhang I’m getting!” Jehan exclaimed, turning to the side to demonstrate. “It’s there even when there’s nothing for my belly to hang over. And these,” he said, squeezing at his love handles. “I like that I’m getting wider in all directions, not just forward and backward.” He turned around to display his ass and thighs, which had gotten immensely rounder. “And I’m getting a double chin,” he added, poking at the underside of his jaw. “I like it. It’s soft and feminine. I think its cute.”

“So do I,” Courf smiled, rising to kiss him. Their revelry was interrupted soon after, by the sound of a throat clearing in an embarrassed manner from the doorway. They both looked up to see a very awkward-looking Joly. “Erm…I came to drop some books off for you, Courf,” he began. “The door was open, so I just...let myself in…” by this point, his gaze had traveled down to Jehan’s substantial belly, and his eyes widened. “I…I…” he gaped. He knew the poet had been putting on quite a bit of weight lately, but it hadn’t struck him just how much until now, when he was looking at him without a shirt on. 

“I’ll be right out,” Courfeyrac said, giving Jehan a peck on the lips.

“Me too, let me just put a shirt on!” said Jehan brightly, who hadn’t noticed Joly’s appraising stare. The two men went out to the kitchen, and Jehan pulled a white shirt over his head. It used to be one of his favorite flowy tops, but now it stretched tight over his belly. Oh, well. At least it covered most of him. Which was more than he could say for most of his clothes.

Meanwhile, Joly had cornered Courfeyrac as soon as they hit the kitchen. “Courf, he’s HUGE!” the med student whispered in distress.

Courfeyrac looked at him blankly. “So? He’s happy.” He said with a shrug. 

“That isn’t the point! Happy is fine. Happy is great. Happy isn’t hazardous to his health!”

“He excercises,” Courfeyrac crossed his arms.

It was then that Jehan walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. “Hey, Joly! How’s it going?” he asked with a smile.

“Erm…” Joly looked at Courfeyrac, who simply stared back with a vacant expression. “I’m alright. But. Ahm. Jehan, do you mind if I’m perfectly frank with you about something?”

“Here we go,” groaned Courf, shaking his head. Joly ignored him, stepping over to Jehan.

“My friend,” he began gently. “I…I can’t help but notice the rather sudden…erm. Change in your size.” Jehan looked at him cluelessly, and Joly sighed frustratedly. “I’m talking about THIS, Jehan,” he said, grabbing hold of the poet’s belly. Jehan looked even more confused, if possible. “Jehan! You’re clearly very overweight! I mean…look at yourself! Do you even _care_ about what this could mean for your health?!”

“I exercise,” Jehan replied, in an echo of his boyfriend.

“How on earth do you exercise?” Joly asked, incredulous. “Can you even touch your toes?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to him, babe.” Courf sighed, just wanting this to be over. He didn’t like the thought of anyone else humiliating Jehan about his size. He knew it was okay when HE did it, but he didn’t know how Jehan would take it coming from another person. 

“No, I’ll try it!” said Jehan with a shrug, bending over to reach his toes. His belly stopped his efforts at about mid-calf. He stood up with a sigh. “Close enough.” He said, with just a hint of a smile.

“Close enough isn’t good enough, Prouvaire!” Joly exclaimed, grabbing ahold of Jehan’s tummy once again and jiggling it roughly. “Look at you! You’re like a prized pig, fattened up by the farmer!” he glared at Courfeyrac. Joly, who was usually so kind and mild-mannered, was worked up into a tizzy. “I mean. Can you even walk up a set of stairs without getting out of breath?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jehan replied with a smirk, patting his belly just above where Joly’s hands gripped it. “I take the elevator.”

Courfeyrac realized then, that this wasn’t making Jehan feel terrible about himself. He LIKED it. He felt himself breath a sigh of relief. Joly looked at them both incredulously. “You mean…you LIKE this?” he hissed, asking both of them at once. He turned to Jehan. “You like having your health put in danger to be fattened up like a swine?” Jehan grinned and oinked in response while Joly poked at his fat tummy. “And you!” the med student turned to glower at Courfeyrac. “Is this some kind of fetish? Shortening his life span? Because that’s what you’re doing!”

“Would you calm the fuck down?” Courfeyrac asked, frustrated. “6 months ago, he was too thin. You were worried he would waste away to nothing. Now he’s a PIG? Have you ever thought that maybe the bodies of your friends aren’t yours to police?”

Joly looked stricken. “I’m sorry, I just…LOOK at him! It’s not natural!” 

“I like it!” Jehan piped up. “I’ve never felt sexier. Or happier with myself.”

Joly groaned. “I’m sorry. I know it’s your life, but obesity kills, Jehan.”

“He isn’t obese,” Courfeyrac added drily. “According to his BMI, he’s still overweight.”

Joly sighed in defeat. “Alright, alright. I just came over here to bring the books. Nothing more. And I’ve done that. So I’ll excuse myself. I’m sorry if I offended you, Jehan. But you know how I worry.”

“I know,” Courf and Jehan said together, the former rolling his eyes and the latter nodding sympathetically. 

 

\---

Some time after Joly left, the two of them were laying on the couch together. “I’m sorry about what he said,” Courfeyrac said suddenly, absentmindedly carding his fingers through auburn waves. Jehan shrugged. “I’m not. I kind of liked it,” he blushed. “It’s the first time anyone besides you has really commented much on my size. It was kind of exciting.”

Courf laughed. “You never cease to surprise me, my little flower.”

“Not so little any more!” Jehan retorted with a gesture to his belly, leaning up to capture Courfeyrac’s lips in a kiss.


End file.
